


Questions & Answers

by apostapal



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kiss A Titan, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapal
Summary: It's hard dealing with failure. It's even harder when you've got a not-so-subtle thing for the dude in charge of chewing you out for failures.





	Questions & Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Commission piece for [@realityinspace](https://realityinspace.tumblr.com) including their OC, [Garret](https://66.media.tumblr.com/1b02f0bd524ee2e0aafe206197e28362/tumblr_owtxvqlL3e1wwrfddo2_1280.jpg), and everyone's fave Awoken Titan. ;)
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this one!!

A smashing failure, as they call it. The whole mission felt like being in the midst of a train wreck and by the time the world stopped spinning things were so much worse than even expecting the worst could prepare someone for.

Garret knows, at least deep down, that he has to give some answers. With a strike that went as poorly as this there’s no getting out of an ass chewing. But he’s not ready for it tonight, tomorrow, or a week from now. So he retreats to the one thing he knows will at least dull his senses enough to pretend he’s not got any problems; the bottle.

He’s fast enough that he’s comfortable numb and stupid by the time Zavala finds someone willing to snitch about where he’s hiding. It’s the best he can ask for giving the circumstances.

The Titan Vanguard slams the door behind him as he steps out onto the catwalk, just in time for Garret to drain another bottle and huck it off the Tower casually. Garret can feel him containing his anger as he stands next to him, one hand so tight around the railing it threatens to bend. Still, he lets the other man speak first and pops another bottle open. He flicks the cap off the edge of the catwalk and Zavala clears his throat.

“I see you didn’t have any plans to join us in the debrief,” he says. Garret grunts an affirmative and tips the bottle up. “Did you have any plans to explain yourself what-so-ever?”

“Nope.” He draws the word out, popping the P sound, and keeps his eyes out across the city below them.

Zavala’s barely contained frustration becomes more palpable. Titans never were great at dealing with anger in any progressive manner, Garret things passively. Never knew how to deal with a problem they couldn’t punch or headbutt. Still, he’s surprisingly contained for all the clear annoyance he’s dealing with.

“You abandoned the target, lost valuable equipment, and half the team is MIA. And you have nothing to say for yourself?”

Garret doesn’t reply. Instead, he moves to take another swig out of the bottle in his hand. In response, Zavala’s hand shoots out and slaps it out of his grip. It bounces off the catwalk and off the Tower. Garret stares after it, senses too dulled by alcohol to be properly upset about the turn of events, and then finally turns his head to look up at the Titan.

“What’d you do that for?”

Zavala reaches down and grabs the Hunter by his cloak, yanking him up onto his unsteady feet. Stumbling, Garret can’t react before he’s pushed up against the wall next to them and has a very angry Vanguard in his face.

“You deal with the others affected by your problems before you drown them,” he snaps, usual Awoken glow seeming to spark across his skin. “I shouldn’t have to go looking for a Guardian because he ran off with his tail between his legs over one failure.”

Garret knows, realistically, this isn’t a great spot to be in. Zavala is very angry and very strong and has thus-far moved him around like a ragdoll. He’s too drunk to defend himself even if he wanted to.

But the pleasant stupidity of alcohol gets the better of him. His eyes drift to Zavala’s mouth, lips pulled in a scowl. He lurches forward a little, half involuntary, and Zavala puts a hand on his chest as if to steady him.

“Y’know, you’re kin’a hot when your angry,” Garret drawls. He pushes forward again, one hand reaching for Zavala’s shoulder and eyes still on his lips.

There’s a brief moment of processing, as if Zavala doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, and then the hand on Garret’s chest pushes him back firmly. He gives a soft ‘oof’, back colliding with the hard metal wall behind him, and blinks.

Something in Zavala seems to shift--to soften. He exhales loudly, tiredly, and dips his head down to the side.

“How did you manage to get so drunk so quickly?”

Garret grins at him. “Talented, I guess.”

Zavala grabs him again, this time with no less strength but far more care as he hooks Garret’s arm over his shoulder and wraps his free arm around his waist. Like he’s limping an injured soldier off the battlefield rather than dragging a drunk Hunter home.

“You need to sleep this off,” he says simply. “Before you do something you regret.”

“Can’t imagine doing anything I’d regret with you,” Garret mumbles, “‘specially with you manhandling me like this.”

“Stop.”

Zavala’s tone is firm, but not angry. He starts back down the catwalk, toward the exit into the Tower, and Garret fumbles to try and stop him.

“‘M not gonna let people see me like this--”

“No one will see a thing,” Zavala says simply, pausing to lean out and key in something on the elevator lift when they get to it.

He’s true to his word, if nothing else. Somehow Garret doesn’t see a soul the whole way to his room. By the time they reach the door he’s gotten comfortable with the strong arm around his waist and instantly feels a little lonely when Zavala pushes him down into his bed.

“Lay on your side,” he warns, already yanking Garret’s boots off for him.

It’s odd seeing the man like this. Usually, Zavala’s all harsh and firm. While he’s certainly not an unkind man he’s known for being a touch short with people. To see him putting genuine care into his movements as he sets Garret’s boots on the floor next to his bed and pulls a blanket over him shouldn’t necessarily be unexpected and yet… it is, in its own way.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he says, pausing to watch Garret squirm around in bed getting comfortable--almost like he’s worried about him getting up and doing something else stupid.

Garret looks up at him, intent to give some sort of smart comeback, but freezes when Zavala leans down and, with one hand holding his head in place, gently presses his lips to his forehead. It’s something so… gentle. Kind. It’s almost mesmerizing, leaving him stunned as the other man straightens back up and turns to leave.

“Get some sleep,” Zavala says simply, pausing at the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

 

The next morning, Garret is only a few steps away from needing to crawl as he makes his way to the mess hall. Overdid-it is an understatement. What he can remember is mostly confusing, and half of it he’d pass off as a dream if he hadn’t woken up in his room that morning.

He’s hunched over a plate of eggs and toast when a mug of coffee gets set next to him. He doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is, grinning to himself as Zavala settles down on the bench next to him.

“How’s your head?”

“S’fine,” Garret replies, plucking the mug off the table and taking a grateful sip. “Thanks. I’ll have my debrief reports filed by lunch and--”

Zavala puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. “Later,” he says, “we can talk about that later. I’m more interested in discussing why your first response to stress last night was to get hammered.”

“Probably not a conversation you want to have,” Garret replies, leaning on his elbow to grin at the Titan. Zavala gives him a tight smile back and even if it’s strained it’s something. “Thought you’d be more interested in talking about why I tried to kiss you.”

“I am not as dense or as disinterested as you seem to think I am.”

Garret pauses, looking down at his coffee in confusion, and then glances back at Zavala for an answer. One doesn’t come. Instead, the other man gets to his feet and heads for the exit. Garret nearly knocks the table over getting up to follow him.

“Hold up, hold up!” He finally manages to catch Zavala in the hallway, grabbing his arm. “I’m gonna need a better explanation than that.”

The reply comes too fast to fully register at first. One second Garret is standing in the hallway with his hand on Zavala’s gauntlet and the next his back hits the wall, a strong form crowding him against it. Zavala’s mouth is on his a split second later, kiss equal parts tender and fierce enough to make his lips sore and leave him gasping for air when they part.

Just as rapidly as he’d entered Garret’s space he’s out of it, leaving Garret leaning against the wall and grinning like the fool he feels as Zavala turns back down the hall.

“Remember to get your reports in on time,” he says simply, hands folded behind his back as he sets off on his way.

Garret can’t stop smirking, still leaning on the wall, as he watches him leave.

“Yes sir.”


End file.
